I think it’s time to retell the story of Little Red. Mama warned her, as mothers must do, that wolves are dangerous, on the prowl for girls in the woods, insatiably hungry. Perhaps Wolf perpetuates his fraud, and devours Red and her grandmother. Perhaps he invites his friends, and they devour her friends.
Perhaps he even becomes the king of the village, with villagers celebrating his brutality, his cruelty, his power.
Then, perhaps, Red and Granny, and Goldie and Snow and Cinder and Rapunzel, trapped as they are in the belly of Old Wolf and his toady wolves, remember that they can breathe fire. Perhaps they send flames shooting from their mouths and they burn Old Wolf and his cronies from the inside out.
Perhaps all the villagers gather around, and see the truth of Old Wolf’s evil as the Maidens and the Crone step out of the steaming carcasses.
Perhaps the Patriarchy falls. Perhaps the Bad Men face the ruin of their own making.
*****
Today’s Project work: About fifteen rows of the first sleeve (third attempt). And here’s the thing: I already love what is happening with the color and texture.
Day 17: In which I consider the artfulness of color and courage
Today I crocheted the shoulders together. I was thinking I would pick up stitches to knit up a more finished looking neckline, but I am going to leave it for now. I like the little roll, and I can always do more there later.
The problem now is the sleeves. When I began the project five years ago, when my knitting was slower and my attention span was even more like that of a butterfly, I followed the designer’s (Laerke Bagger’s) instructions more strictly, trying always to keep one of my neutral yarns in the mix of the two or three yarns I was knitting with at a time, and switching colors more quickly. As I got further in, and braver, I began to get bolder about using color more intuitively for me, changing colors less frequently, and blending my color changes. So when I unraveled the project the first time, I used the balls with the braver color choices for the front and the back, and made my sleeves from the grayer balls. The gray is on the top of the third picture.
I am totally in love with the two panels in the front and back, but I was only sort of satisfied with the sleeves, so. . .I unraveled them. This project has taught me so very much. About trusting my color instincts. About persistence. About approaching my work with a more artful eye. So. while I am disappointed that I still have so much more to go, I am really happy with how much the process has been teaching me, so I am actually really happy to redo this part of the sweater. I won’t have trouble finding a use for the gray balls.
I also crocheted a few more hearts and flowers for Pride.
“When I was a little girl, I breathed fire.” —Nurjahan Boulden
My version of the Hail Mary Prayer has gone like this in recent months: “Hello Maiden, Full of Grace, Love is with thee.
Blessed art thou, Wild Mother,
and blessed is the fruit of thy desire, all life.
Holy Grandmother, Queen of Heaven,
pray for us now and in the hour of our struggle.”
Lately, however, after listening to Nurjahan Boulden use that phrase about breathing fire, I have shifted that first line, to say,
“Hello Girl, breathing fire, Love is with thee.”
*****
I finished the front panel of ATS 3.0 today! Tomorrow, I hope to put it together. If we get cold weather again this week, I’ll get a chance to wear it!
In the photo, my second finished panel is behind my Vision Board from yesterday’s workshop. I set the board down while I was paying for my parking yesterday, and forgot to pick it back up. I went back this afternoon and found it on top of a trash can!
Today was jam-packed. I left church early to get to a vision board workshop, and arrived late at the Singing Resistance Training because it started at the same time the workshop ended. This is a hard schedule for someone who usually tries to plan no more than one thing a day. But all the things were great things.
One the way to Lancaster this morning, I passed beneath six or seven skeins of snow geese, saw a vulture stretching its wings to the sun on a snag, and drove beneath a raven. A birdy morning.
Last night, I kept hearing the geese calling in the night as I was going to sleep. My friend Sarah calls this an ancient flyway. Yes. What an honor to live here. I can’t remember the air being so filled with geese and swans for years!
With all the busyness of the day, I only finished eight hearts and flowers. I arranged them around the Community card from the Between Worlds Oracle, because community was the name of my game today.
Thoughts on Media in an age of Fascist Media Takeover:
1. I’m already extricated from many of the main compromised sources. I haven’t been watching news on CNN or CBS or the others for years. I prefer NPR and The Guardian.
2. It’s almost impossible to completely extricate ourselves from the fascist billionaire bros—here I am using IG and FB for my own writing and connection.
3. There are some excellent voices to listen to, alternative media sources: Heather Cox Richardson, The Contrarian, The Bulwark, The Intercept, Brian Tyler Cohen (some of these are still pretty white male sources). I read folks on Substack, like Lissa Rankin, Lisa Gonzalez, HCR, and Robert Reich (one white male I trust).
4. If they’re easily distracted by the “newest” outrage and cannot keep reporting on the Epstein files and the abuses of ICE and CBP, I am less likely to trust a news source. Yes, they should be reporting on Iran, too, and the ballroom, and definitely the abuse of the planet. And someone should be keeping regular tabs on the president’s declining cognitive and physical health.
Today’s Project: I knitted on the way to and from West Chester to pick up the college kid for Spring Break (I wasn’t driving, of course). I started just above the pink line, and knitted about 5-6”. We stopped at Labadie Looms in Smoketown on the way home to buy some yellow roving to spin.
Some takeaways from recent revelations: 1. Trust your instincts and intuition. If a man skeeves you out, even a bit, keep your distance. This applies to spiritual teachers as well as acquaintances.
2. Research. If you’re going to a workshop or conference with powerful teachers, do some internet searching first to see what they’ve been up to.
3. Center the voices of women and girls, trans and gay folks, people of color, and poor people. If you are not in one (perhaps several) of those categories, sit back and listen.
4. Find teachers who are not white, male, rich, powerful, heteronormative. Be your own best teacher and guide. Seek community.
5. If that spiritual growth conference or panel is made up primarily of men, or of white people, or of straight people, be suspicious.
6. Scour your social media and to unfollow Deepak Chopra and others who had relationships with the abusers. Maybe while you’re at it, unfollow the influencers who have kept silent about their colleagues’ collusion with the pedophiles. Or write to them and ask them why they are not speaking out.
Today’s project: More rows on The Alone Together Poncho-Thing
Tassel on the hat. Most successful hat tassel I’ve ever done. And the hat is really big. I followed the pattern I found on the internet, but didn’t have size 5 needles, so I used size 6, and that seems to have been the problem. Sigh. I will still wear it. Might make another. (Hmmm. But that would be started ANOTHER project rather than finishing one already begun. . .)
And I taught some folks to knit tonight! I’ve never been really good at explaining knitting, but these were quick learners, and they were patient with me.
I am making steady progress with The Alone Together Poncho-thing. Tomorrow is my last day of Break, so my progress on all projects will slow down. Some people go traveling for spring break. Some people clean house. I knitted.
Day 10: Here’s the thing: I made some adjustments to the pattern thinking it wouldn’t affect the outcome much. It’s been two years, so Bagger no longer has the free pattern on her IG page, so I couldn’t use it even if I tried. My idea to create two panels with slight decreases at the top simply didn’t work. I put it all together this morning, and I hated the shape of it. I’ve never made a sweater before, and I have been hoping that I could just make a lovely messy thing that I would love to wear.
So I unraveled again today. I’m a little frustrated, but also determined to make the final sweater something I WANT to wear. Maybe I’ll make a poncho? I’m going to set it aside for a while and work on this hat, and some of my other projects.
So it has been a bit of a Samuel Beckett project so far. “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”
Day 6: My heart is heavy today with the reports of US and Israeli attacks on Iran.
This morning my Book Group talked about this book, The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife, about a case of mistaken identity that brings redemption and healing to a series of tragic and painful stories. The primary issue of mistaken identity revolves around the idea that so often people don’t really see elders. And the main character, through his own terrible grief, is able to truly and deeply see the people he encounters.
How can I be a better Seer of others? How can I not let anyone go unnoticed or ignored?
I crocheted hearts and flowers as we talked. Each little heart, each little flower, is a prayer for peace. Later, I finished the first sleeve of The Alone Together Sweater and began the second. I’m feeling anxious about whether it will be a cohesive garment when I finish.
The golden winter aconite were alive with the electric hum of the Little Sisters, and the barn overhang was swarming with the coming and goings from the wild hive.